Marty Deeks' Really Bad Day
by Malia Amane
Summary: Marty Deeks thought he was having the day from hell, but when he was forced to watch helplessly as that bullet hit Kensi, sending her toppling over the side of the pier and into the stormy ocean below, he realised that nothing he'd experienced that morning had been been as bad as it had seemed. Not in the face of losing his partner, his best friend, his family. - Densi -
1. The Morning from Hell

**Marty Deeks' Really Bad Day**

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**Chapter 1: The Morning from Hell**

_You know it's gonna be a bad day when you step in chewing gum with your right foot and doggy doo with your left foot-and that's before you leave your bathroom!-__  
__and you don't even chew gum!-and you don't even have a dog! - __**Author unknown.**_

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Before he even opened his eyes that morning, Marty Deeks instinctively knew that the day ahead wouldn't be a good one.

His first clue (yeah, he's a detective, so he totally pays attention to things like _instinct_ and _clues_) was that which had rudely awoken him from a frankly _awesome_ dream in the first place; the sound of howling winds in the street outside and the pouring rain hammering against the glass of his bedroom window. Los Angeles in August was supposed to be all surf, sunshine and skin on display. It was definitely_ not_ supposed to sound like _that._

Then there was that ominous dripping sound from somewhere behind him, just off to the right of his bed.

With a resigned sigh, the blonde detective decided that he couldn't delay wakefulness anymore, despite the fact that his morning alarm was yet to sound and he'd been robbed of precious minutes of sleep. Warily, he rolled over towards the source of the dripping sound and and cracked open one eyelid, taking in the sight before him with an ever growing sense of dismay.

Okay, so that rather large puddle of rainwater should _not_ be all over his bedroom floor, and last he checked, ceilings were supposed to keep things like _the weather_ outside, not welcome it in for tea and cakes.

_Shit._

Suddenly having a top story apartment wasn't as great as he remembered thinking it was.

Kicking the covers off, Deeks leapt out of bed and immediately dashed into his en-suite bathroom, grabbing some towels off the towel rail and a bucket from the under-sink cabinet, tipping the various bottles of cleaning products out of said bucket and straight into the bathtub, then charged back to the bedroom, strategically placing the bucket under the source of the leak and mopping up the pool or rainwater with the towels.

Stepping back and admiring his handy work (one small crisis temporarily averted, Marty 1 – Leaky Ceiling 0, for now at least…) Deeks let out a sigh of relief before sitting back down on the edge of his bed and reaching for his cell phone to check the time, reasoning that since it was still pretty gloomy outside, perhaps he could squeeze in an extra 15 minutes of dozing before he had to make the inevitable call to his grumpy landlord about the ceiling. Not to mention going to work!

His heart sank to his feet when he thumbed the screen and nothing happened. Despite being plugged into the charger all night, the phone's battery was completely dead.

As was the digital alarm clock on his bedside table…

And every other electrical devise he passed on the short, but very brisk walk to his lounge, where he'd left his watch the night before.

And when he saw that it was just gone 9.08am, which meant that not only was he not getting his extra 15 minutes in bed, but that he was also already 8 minutes late for work, he felt himself start to freak out just a little bit. 8 minutes late, and that was _before _the 5 minutes it would take him to get dressed and rush out of the house, and the 35 minute drive to headquarters, assuming the traffic wasn't too bad. And in this weather, bad traffic was a foregone conclusion.

He immediately thought about calling Kensi to let her know where he was, and beg her to apologise to Hetty for him for being late again, before remembering that his cell phone was dead, and the cordless land line phone would be unusable too due to the lack of power.

_Shit! Shit! Shit! _

Hetty & Kensi were _so_ gonna kill him!

Leaping back into action, Deeks ran to the kitchen and set out fresh dog food and water for Monty, who was still curled up fast asleep on his armchair in the lounge, completely oblivious to the _excitement_ of the morning.

The next port of call was the bedroom, where he quickly pulled on clean underwear, a 'pair' of odd-socks, yesterday's jeans, a fresh grey tee-shirt and plaid stripy wool sweater, and grabbed the in-car cell charging cable from his bedside cabinet, then back to the bathroom to hastily brush his teeth and run a hand through his perpetually messy hair.

Finally, he ran back to the hallway where he grabbed his car keys, brown leather jacket, gun and messenger bag before leaving the apartment and rushing out of the building.

By the time the detective reached the back door of his apartment building the wind was so strong that it was a full on battle just to get back door open. Putting his whole weight behind it, the door eventually opened, revealing the outside world and what had to be the most appalling weather Deeks had ever seen in Los Angeles in his life, horizontal rain, gale force winds and all.

After a moment's hesitation (what was a bit of bad weather in comparison to Hetty's wrath for being late?) Deeks pulled up his hood and ran out into the parking lot, heading towards where he'd parked his Malibu the night before.

There were no words to adequately describe the disappointment Deeks felt as he neared the vehicle and noticed that the front windshield was completely smashed in, a metal trash car lid lying smugly in the front passenger seat, surrounded by broken glass. There was no way he could drive the car to work in this condition.

With an angry cry born of pure frustration and a string of profanities that would have had Hetty washing his mouth out with soap and water had she heard, Deeks kicked the front fender of the car as hard as he could, and instantly regretted it when pain blossomed in his foot and straight up his ankle.

He must have really pissed someone off in a past life to deserve this kind of punishment!

For a moment he was at a loss as to what to do next. A huge part of him just wanted to go back to his apartment, crawl back into his bed, and sleep through the rest of this goat-rope of a day, but a smaller, more sensible part of him knew that this definitely wouldn't go over well with the team at work.

No, he was just going to have to deal with it.

Half running, half limping, Deeks, who was now soaking wet, made his way to the phone booth on the street out the front of his apartment. Digging into his messenger bag he fished out his wallet, dropped a few quarters into the coin slot* and dialled Kensi's number from memory, all the while bouncing on the spot to try and keep warm.

She answered on the third ring.

"_This is Kensi…"_

"Hey partner" he said, with none of his usual enthusiasm.

"_Deeks! Where the hell are you? It's twenty past nine! I've been calling your cell for the last fifteen minutes." _Deeks winced at the audible irritation in her tone and ran a hand down his face. "Sorry Kens, you will not believe the morning I'm having."

Something in his own tone of voice must have spoken to his partner, because when she spoke again her voice was substantially less annoyed. "_Is everything alright?"_

"Yeah," Deeks answered reflexively, before sighing and correcting himself. "Well, no actually… I'm am having _the_ morning from hell! The power is out in my apartment block, my cell phone died, I overslept, my bedroom roof is leaking, I haven't had any coffee and this god-damn wind decided to fling a trashcan lid through the windshield of my car, so now I can't even drive to work. _And_ I had to call you from a phone booth, which stinks of urine and god knows what else, so judging by the luck I've had so far today I probably have Tuberculosis now!" He paused for effect, before adding in pitiful tone of voice. "Can you come pick me up please?"

There was a pause and then, "s_ure, but you already owe me for the last time you were late for work Deeks. I'll be adding this to your I.O.U!"_

"Really Fern? I thought partners were supposed to have each other's back, you know, for better or worse, in sickness and in health, and all that?"

"_I think you are confusing our partnership with marriage," _Kensi sighed jadedly.

Deeks smirked, dropping another couple of quarters into the payphone when it beeped to indicate that the pre-paid credit was ending. "Well we spend 75% of our waking week together. I'm always cleaning up after you, feeding you, and you constantly nag and abuse me. And you _never_ put out. How could I not confuse this partnership for marriage?"

He could practically hear her roll her eyes.

"_Do you want a ride or not Deeks?"_

He couldn't resist it, it was too easy. "I'm sorry, do I want a 'what' now?"

Another pause.

"_Okay, I'm hanging up now! Enjoy your 9 mile walk to headquarters. See you in 3 hours!"_

"No! No! Don't hang up!"

Silence from the other end of the phone.

"Kens?

"Partner?

"Mimi? C'mon, I'm sorry, you know I was just kidding..."

There were a couple more moments of silence, before Kensi's slightly amused voice sounded through the receiver.

"_We've had a break in the Anderson case anyway. I'll pick you up en route and brief you on the way."_

The dial tone sounded, indicating that Kensi had hung up the phone. Replacing the handset, Deeks pulled his hood up once again and ran back across the street though the pouring raining towards his apartment. Arriving at his apartment door, he reached into his messenger bag looking for his apartment keys, and wasn't altogether surprised when he was unable to find them.

After all, locking himself out of his apartment really was the perfect end to the perfect morning!

With a dejected sigh, Deeks plunked himself down onto the floor, resting his back against his apartment door and settled himself to wait for his partner to come and rescue him from this shit-storm of a day.

Surely this day couldn't get any worse.

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	2. The Fall

**AN: **I just want to thank everyone who has reviewed, followed or favourited my little story so far. It's the first story I've attempted to write in a really long time, and I've been completely floored by the response so far. I'm glad you guys are enjoying it and I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint.

And without further ado, I present chapter 2 for your reading pleasure. Enjoy!

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**Chapter 2: The Fall**

_Bad things happen to good people. _– _**Anonymous**_

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For the first few minutes after discovering he'd locked himself out of his apartment, Deeks had occupied himself by counting the cracks in the plasterwork of his building's currently unlit corridor. When that got dull (which, not surprisingly, happened _extremely _quickly) he decided to try replaying the movie 'Speed' in his head, taking care to recall and recite every line word for word. (Of course, he had no way of knowing if he was getting the lines right or wrong, what, with being stuck on the chilly floor of his building corridor, with no copy of the movie or Google to check against, but _meh! – don't sweat the details Marty, it's not like anyone is checking up on you._) The last thing he could remember was making it all the way through to the scene where Keanu Reeves' character shot his partner in the leg to diffuse a hostage situation, before a booted foot started nudging his ankle repeatedly.

Confused, the detective opened his eyes blearily, wondering how exactly he'd managed to fall asleep against his apartment door. Looking up, he was greeted with the site of his partner standing over him, dressed sensibly in a bright red waterproof hiking jacket, her hands behind her back and an affectionate grin splitting her face.

"Kens?" Deeks croaked, straightening up and rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. "What time is it?"

"It's a little after 10," Kensi replied amicably, before her grin took a snarky edge. "You looked comfortable down there. Finally given in and taken to sleeping on the floor with the rest of the dogs, have you?"

"Oh hardehar-har!" Deeks deadpanned, standing slowly and trying to work the ache out of his lower back from sitting on the ground for too long. "Besides, how do you know I looked comfortable? Watching me sleep again? I always knew you couldn't keep your eyes off me. I am devilishly handsome after all!" he grinned.

Kensi scoffed incredulously and took a step back, hands still behind her back, putting a little more distance between them. "More like watching you drool! You still have a little on your chin actually."

The blonde immediately brought a hand up to his chin, before rolling his eyes when his partner snorted, indicating that she had been winding him up all along.

"So," the brunette started, "are you going to tell me why you're sleeping in the corridor of your apartment building, or do I have to get the team here and launch an official investigation?"

Deeks suspiciously lowered his eyes to where Kensi's hands were _still _behind her back. "Maybe, if _you_ tell me what you're hiding back there," he prompted, trying to peer behind her and see for himself.

Kensi took another step back, angling her hands away from his curious gaze. "Uh-uh-uh Deeks! Age before beauty."

The detective rolled his eyes. "Really?" he sighed long-sufferingly. When Kensi just smirked back stubbornly, he knew she wouldn't be giving in any time soon.

"I locked myself out of my apartment," the detective mumbled, staring at the ground in front of him.

Once again, Kensi chuckled, and Deeks raised his eyes back to hers, slightly irritated at her lack of sympathy for his plight. He was surprised however when his gaze met hers, as instead of the mocking expression he'd been expecting, her eyes held empathy and she looked back at him warmly.

"Wow, you really _are _having a sucky morning, huh?" Her smile widened and her eyes seemed to sparkle with pride. "Good thing I brought these then," she professed, bringing her hands out in front of her and revealing a large Starbucks espresso in one hand, and a vegetable breakfast burrito in the other.

Deeks couldn't remember seeing a more beautiful sight in his life.

The free food and coffee wasn't looking too bad either.

"Kensi Marie Blye, I could kiss you! Seriously!" he declared gratefully, reaching out with both hands to take the coffee and the burrito from her.

"No need to go that far Deeks, I'm just making sure I don't have to put up with you whining all day because you didn't get your morning caffeine fix," she stated, side stepping around him as he took a sip of his coffee, and unlocking the front door to his apartment with the spare key he'd given her for emergencies. She held the door open for him and her stared at her confused for a moment. "You wanna go grab your keys?" she prompted.

_Oh right, of course, _Deeks thought to himself before stepping passed her and back into the apartment.

"Oh, and you might wanna put on a waterproof jacket," she called after him from the front door. "We're gonna be outdoors a bit later this morning."

Deeks let out another long suffering sigh. Just when he thought the morning was starting to look up she dropped that bombshell on him.

_Wonderful._

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Fifteen minutes later, after wolfing down his burrito, taking a wisely reluctant Monty outside for doggy-toilet time (the wind was unreal by now, and he was proud to say that his dog was no fool) and a quick change into dry jeans and a waterproof jacket, Deeks was in the passenger side of Kensi's silver SRX, enduring the usual horrendous techno music coming from the car's speakers and the 'adventurous' driving-style of his partner.

As he plugged his cell phone into the in-car charger, Kensi explained the intel they'd received regarding the case the team were currently working on. Mikael Anderson, a decorated U.S. Marine had been arrested by MPs earlier in the week on suspicion of illegally selling weapons to an unknown buyer. When the MPs had discovered the potential involvement of a small, but rapidly expanding anti-Islam terrorist faction they'd quickly handed the case over to NCIS to handle.

Despite initially maintaining his innocence, Anderson had soon copped to the charges when Sam had presented him with copies of emails that Eric had recovered between himself and one implausibly named Jon-Jim Simms, leader of the Anti-Islam Fighters terrorist group, or A.I.F. as they were colloquially known, detailing three prior sales of machine guns and ammunition.

On Hetty's orders, the team had kept the details of Anderson's arrest out of the media, hoping for further contact from Simms, and this morning that was exactly what had happened.

Kensi explained that Eric had intercepted an email from Simms to Anderson's email account earlier that morning, arranging a meet at Santa Monica Pier at 11.45am. Anderson was to show up with four M249 machine guns in a leather suitcase. Simms would bring the cash in an identical suitcase and the trade would be made. Eric had responded to the email under the guise of Anderson accepting the meet and thus Kensi and Deeks were now on their way to Santa Monica Pier to apprehend the suspect. Callen and Sam were to meet them there.

"This Simms guy really is a moron! I mean, have you seen the state of this weather?" Deeks grumbled irritated. He gestured out of the windshield at the pouring rain and the palm trees at the roadside that were currently being battered under the strength of the gale force winds. Despite Kensi having the window wipers on the maximum setting, visibility out front was truly horrendous. "Even, like, putting aside the fact that he's a terrorist, a racist, a murderer, not to mention that fact that he's called Jon-Jim," the detective made a face, "would you arrange to meet someone on a pier in these winds? I mean, seriously, what kind of idiot does that?"

Kensi just chuckled in response; not bothering to answer what was obviously rhetorical question. "I picked up your vest before I left headquarters," she stated seriously, "you'd better put it on under your jacket. Simms is known to be unstable so we should be prepared for the worst."

Deeks just gave a murmur of agreement before reaching into the back seat for his vest, and not for the first time that morning, wondering what the hell he would do without his partner looking out for him.

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They'd arrived at Santa Monica just before 11am, pulling up by the side walk on Pico Boulevard about 50 feet behind Sam's challenger. As they cut the engine off Callen emerged from the passenger side of the muscle car and ran towards them, jumping in the rear passenger side door of the CRX and slamming the door behind him.

As he pulled his hood down and scooted towards the middle of the back seat, Callen smirked at Deeks.

"Hey Deeks," he began, "Thank you for finally gracing us with your presence."

Deeks swore that Callen was sounding more and more like Hetty each day. Before he could voice that thought though, Callen spoke again.

"You _do_ realise that Hetty is going to kill you, right?"

Not bothering to dignify that comment with a response, (_of course_ he knew Hetty was going to kill him, but he'd rather not think about that right now) he turned to Callen and asked, "So what's the plan of action then?"

Kensi also turned to look at Callen expectantly.

"The problem we have is that the Pier is going to be pretty empty this morning, due to the storm," Callen began. "Now, that's a good thing in terms of less risk of civilian casualties should a fire-fight break out, but it's bad news in terms of our cover. Simms might seem a bit on the dense side, but even he's definitely going to find it suspicious if there are four tourists randomly hanging around on the pier in the middle of the storm."

Deeks and Kensi nodded in agreement.

"Sam and I think the best bet is if the two of us go in first. I'll take the suitcase and pose as Anderson. Sam will hide out close to the meet point and cover me from there."

"Not to be cynical," Kensi interrupted, "but don't you think Simms is going to know that you're not Anderson? Build and skin tone aside, _you_ look nothing like him."

"You're right, that _is _a problem," Callen responded, "but thankfully we have the storm on our side in this case. Simms is going to have to get real close before he realises that I'm not Anderson. And that's where you guys come in."

Deeks shuffled in his seat, focussing on Callen as he explained what his and Kensi's role would be in the take down.

"You two will stake out the pier from the parking lot. When you see Anderson join the pier, you follow him at a discreet distance. Sam and I will make the arrest, but you guys will be there to take him down should he get away from us and try to get off the pier. We also have another contingent of agents who will secure the pier entrance behind you.

Deeks looked over to Kensi as Callen completed his explanation, and he saw the same doubt that he was feeling written all over her face.

Looking back over to Callen, Deeks spoke up first. "Look, Callen, no disrespect, but I'm really not sure about this plan, I mean… there are about a billion things that could go wrong here.

"Simms could recognise that you aren't Anderson and get spooked, pulling his gun on you before you have time to react. He could see me and Kensi following him, or hell, he could even see us in the parking lot."

Kensi nodded in agreement before adding in a tone that screamed concern, "You're putting yourself right in the line of fire of a known murderer, virtually unprotected Callen. I'm sorry but I don't like this either."

Callen sighed. "Look, I know there are issues, Sam and I have been over and over them. But the order has come in from Director Vance through Granger to bring Simms in, and this is probably the only shot we have of apprehending him before he finds out we got Anderson and goes off the grid. And anyway," the older agent grinned suddenly, "I trust my team to have my back. I know you won't let anything happen to me."

Deeks and Kensi exchanged another dubious glance, but before they could say anymore, Callen's cell rang.

"That's Sam," Callen said, before looking back up at the female agent and the detective in the front of the car. "We have to make a move if we're going to get to the pier ahead of Simms. You guys know what you have to do?" he asked, looking back at Kensi and Deeks, who both nodded reluctantly. Callen placed one hand on each of their shoulders and nodded at them both reassuringly before edging back towards the passenger side door.

Pulling his hood back up, he opened the door, before yelling back at the partners over the sound of howling wind, "We'll keep comms open throughout the entire op, so if you see anything that makes you suspicious, shout up. I'll speak to you both soon." Then he slammed the door shut and rushed back to the challenger, getting back into the passenger seat.

Deeks and Kensi sat in silence as they watched Sam manoeuvre the Challenger back onto the road and head in the direction of the pier. Then Kensi fired up the engine of the SRX before stating determinedly, "If Callen ends up getting hurt because Vance was in a hurry to catch this guy, I don't care if he's the director; I'll kill him myself."

The detective nodded solemnly in agreement as Kensi pulled out into the road and headed in the direction of the pier, trying not to let the nagging feeling of dread that was lurking in the back of his mind from taking over.

But with the luck he'd had this morning, he was finding it difficult to believe that anything would go according to plan today.

Xxx

If there was one thing that Deeks had learned throughout his years as a cop, it was to always trust your instincts. And Deeks had good instincts; it was something he'd always been proud of, and something that both Lt. Bates and Hetty had often praised him for.

He really wished he'd listened to those instincts today.

For the most part, the takedown had gone according to plan. Simms had arrived alone at the pier a little after 11.45am, towing a leather suitcase behind him. Kensi had commented that he looked nervous as he scanned the area around the pier entrance, but there had been nothing noticeably out of the ordinary.

Kens had notified Callen and the team listening in at Ops of Simms arrival, then after a few moments later, she and Deeks excited the warm, dry comfort of the SRX and walked out onto the blustery pier, Deeks covering the right and Kensi about 25 yards ahead of him by the left railing. A quick scan back revealed the additional agents closing in around the end of the pier, effectively closing off the suspect's chance of an escape.

Deeks could make out Callen's silhouette in the distance, his jacket hood up and his back to Simms, leaning against the railing on the same side of the pier and looking out over the stormy sea below. As Simms got closer to Callen, Sam spoke over the comms link, advising the team to hold their positions and be ready.

Simms was only 15 meters away from Callen when he froze suddenly.

Kensi's voice came over the comm-link. "_Guys, I thi..."_

Before she had even finished her sentence, Simms had drawn his weapon and had it pointed at the back of Callen's head.

Deeks immediately had his gone drawn and noticed Kensi do the same thing. Sam appeared from behind a hut a little ways up the pier and was the first to call out, "NCIS! Drop your weapon Simms."

"Put it down!" Kensi cried out from her position on the opposite side of the pier.

"Drop it!" Deeks echoed, edging left to a more central point of the pier, letting Simms know he was completely surrounded.

Seemingly knowing he was beat (maybe this guy was smarter than Deeks had given him credit for), Simms called out, "Alright, Alright," and raised his hands above his head, slowly crouching down to the ground as though to put down his weapon.

Deeks and Sam started to make their way towards him; guns still trained on him as he lowered his gun down to the ground in front of him.

And then, out of absolutely no-where, Simms suddenly spun around and started firing wildly, bullets flying in all directions.

Sam and Deeks fired a split second later, their bullets finding their mark in Simms, but their reactions had not been quick enough.

And Marty Deeks could only watch helplessly as one of the bullets connected with his partner, her head flinging back under it's force as she was flipped back over the pier like a rag doll, disappearing into the churning ocean below.

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	3. The Rescue

**A/N: **You guys are so amazing and inspiring! To everyone who has followed, favourited or reviewed this story; thank you so, so much! I hope you continue to enjoy reading this as much as I am enjoying writing it. I'm sorry I haven't had a chance to respond to all of your reviews individually, but that's because I was frantically writing chapter 3 since so many of you wanted a quick update.

Anyway, here we go with chapter 3. I apologise in advance for any mistakes, and aside from that, I hope you like this instalment!

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**Chapter 3: The Rescue**

_Despite your best efforts, people are going to be hurt when it's time for them to be hurt. _– _**Haruki Murakami**_

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In the space of a couple of seconds, Marty Deeks' entire world came slamming to an abrupt halt.

For a moment, all he could do was just stand there, hands trembling, gun still pointed at the fallen form of Simms, staring at the spot by the pier railing where Kensi had stood just seconds earlier. All of the air seemed to have been sucked out of his lungs. All he could hear was the sound of his own blood rushing in his ears. All he could feel was his heart trying to thump it's way out of his ribcage and the blind panic that was threatening to take over.

In the end, it was Sam's voice barking orders over the comms-link to ops that snapped him out of his stupor and back into the here and now.

"Eric, Kensi's in the water. She's been shot. We need an ambulance and coast guards out here _now_!"

Before Deeks was even aware of making the decision, he was already tucking his weapon into the back of his jeans and running towards the pier edge; legs eating up the distance between his current position and the place where she'd toppled over the rail.

Distantly he was aware of Eric responding to Sam over the comms, and the sound of Callen's voice issuing orders to the other agents who must have come running to the scene when the shots were fired, but he paid them no heed as he finally reached the railing. Gripping it so hard that his knuckles turned white, he leaned over and looked into stormy waters about 30ft below.

"Kensi?" he yelled frantically, eyes scanning over every inch of the water, desperate for a glimpse of his partner, or any clue to her whereabouts, but there was none to be found. "Kens!"

By this point, Sam and Callen had joined him by the rail.

"Can you see her?" Callen questioned; a hint of panic clear in his normally calm tone.

"No," Sam responded distractedly, his eyes still searching the surface of the water.

"Kensi?" This time it was Callen who called her name.

Deeks tightened his grip on the railing, squeezing to the point of pain; anything to distract him from the icy feeling of dread clutching at his heart.

_I'm gonna lose her, _was all he was capable of thinking in that moment. And then the memory of her head snapping back as the bullet connected rose unbidden in his mind_, _and he felt bile rising in his throat and tears stinging at the back of his eyes.

He might have lost her _already_.

He forced that thought down no sooner had it entered his mind. He couldn't -_wouldn't_- allow himself to think like that. She was his partner, his best friend, his family, and without question _the_ single most important person in his life.

He was _not _gonna give up on her.

Not if there was the slightest chance that she was still alive.

Releasing his death-grip on the railing but keeping his eyes on the water, the blonde detective unfastened the zip of his jacket with shaking hands, shrugging the waterproof fabric off his back and dropping it onto the ground. His ballistic vest, badge, boots, and gun soon followed suit and seconds later he was launching himself over the pier railing and freefalling towards the turbulent seawater below.

The last thing he heard before he hit the water with a large splash and plunged beneath the surface was Callen and Sam calling out to him, telling him to stop.

Deeks was no stranger to the ocean; he'd surfed at least twice a week, pretty much every week, since he was 12 years old. He'd also done a two year stint as a lifeguard on Venice Beach to help pay his way through law school. He was a strong swimmer, of that there was no doubt. But even he was taken by surprise at the force of the ocean in that moment; the stormy undercurrents and the extra weight of his clothing threatening to drag him even further under.

Kicking powerfully with his legs, the LAPD liaison eventually broke the surface of the water, gasping for air, pushing his unruly hair out of his face and blinking furiously to get the salty water out of his eyes. Treading water, he span in a slow circle, eyes scanning the choppy surface of the water as he was bobbed up and down by the tempestuous waves; all the while ignoring Callen and Sam who were calling out to him, asking if he was okay, if he could see Kensi.

_Come on Kensi, where the hell are you?_

It happened so quickly that he thought he'd imagined it at first; that splash of red he caught in his peripheral vision, bobbing around near one of the wooden pylons that the pier above stood upon. His eyes immediately locked on to the area where he thought he'd seen something, but all he found was more waves and water. Just when he thought he was seeing things the waves on the surface of the water undulated in just the right way, and he caught another glimpse of a bright red hiking jacket, and a tangle of long brunette hair.

It was Kensi, bobbing face down on the surface of the water underneath the pier about 10 metres away from him.

_Oh Jesus…_

"Sam! Callen! I see her! She's under the pier!" Deeks cried out, and no sooner were the words out of his mouth, he was already swimming at full speed towards his partner's prone form, never taking his eyes off her.

After what felt like hours Deeks finally reached Kensi's side, wrapping an arm around her waist and rotating her so her face was out of the water and kicking with extra force to keep them both afloat in the choppy waves. Saying her name again, he pushed her sodden hair out of her face and the first thing he noticed was the large, deep bullet graze across her right temple; the wound pink with watered-down blood. Any relief he felt at the discovery that the bullet had not penetrated her skull was short-lived however, as he took in the pallid tone of her skin and the blue tint of her lips.

"Deeks." Sam's voice startled the blonde man and Deeks looked up dumbstruck to find Sam treading water in front of him on the opposite side of Kensi. The larger agent, who must have jumped straight into the ocean once Deeks had confirmed he could see his partner, raised two fingers and placed them at the pulse point on Kensi's jugular vein and waited for a couple of seconds before meeting Deeks' eyes once again. "There's no pulse," he stated honestly, and Deeks was pretty sure his own heart stalled in his chest at those words. "We need to get her back to the beach now. An ambulance is on the way."

The liaison officer watched dumbly as the former SEAL pinched Kensi's nose and sealed his lips over hers and administered two rescue breaths, before shaking himself back into action. Once Sam was done, he manoeuvred himself behind her so he gripped her body in a classic lifeguards hold, and began the arduous swim to shore, pulling his partner along behind him.

Sam swam alongside the pair, shouting out directions and encouragement to Deeks, and periodically giving more rescue breaths to Kensi ask Deeks continued to pull her back to the shoreline.

For Deeks part, all he could do was focus on keeping moving. The swim was immensely difficult, what, with the extra weight of not only his own clothes, but a fully clothed (and vested) Kensi behind him. Deeks felt that for every two meters of progress he made, the force of the waves brought him a meter back. His arms and legs were screaming with exertion, his throat burned from the rate at which he was gulping in oxygen, and his eyes stung from the salty water, but he would not give up. He would Kensi back to shore if it was the last thing he did.

He had to.

Losing her was _not_ an option.

Finally, after what was undoubtedly the longest two minutes of his life, the detective felt the completely underrated feeling of sand beneath his feet as he kicked, and seconds later Callen came scrambling waist-height into the water beside him, taking Kensi from Deeks' hold and dragging her back up the shore line. Sam followed suit on the other side and together the pair dragged the junior agent's limp form out of the ocean and onto dry land.

Gasping for air, Deeks dragged himself out of the water, limbs trembling, completely exhausted. He half walked, half stumbled towards his team and dropped down to his knees by Kensi's head as Callen administered two more rescue breaths and Sam worked on removing the unconscious woman's jacket and ballistics vest.

"Eric says the ambulance is about a minute out," Callen relayed as Sam began chest compressions, and some distant part of Deeks' mind registered that his earwig must have fallen out in the ocean somewhere, given that he could no longer hear Eric's voice over the comms link.

Deeks couldn't move, couldn't speak. All he could do was watch in horror as Sam reached the end of the first set of compressions, and Callen dipped to breathe for Kensi once again, Sam urging her to "Come on!"

Still no response…

He didn't miss the hopeless look that Sam was sending Callen's way as he resumed the compressions.

_She's not coming back._

_I'm gonna lose her._

Hands trembling, the blonde reached out slowly, threading his fingers into the tangle of Kensi's sodden hair, and leaned in closer to her, taking in her pale skin and lifeless expression.

His voice was little more than a despaired whisper when he finally spoke.

"Breathe!" he begged desperately. "Kensi, please, just breathe, _please."_

Distantly, he could hear the sound of sirens approaching; was aware of more rescue breaths from Callen and another round of compressions from Sam, could hear them talking to each other. Or were they talking to Kensi, or him? He couldn't focus on anything other than the woman lying motionless on the sand in front of him; a woman he'd known for only a few years, but who had wormed her way so assuredly into his life that he already he couldn't imagine a life without her in it.

"Don't you do this Kens!" he ordered, voice gaining more volume as the panic flared. "Don't you_ dare _skip out on us now." The detective slammed the heel of his hand into the sand next to Kensi's head, becoming more and more desperate. "You're stronger than this Kensi! Don't let this beat you! Fight!"

Suddenly the paramedics were right there, and Callen had his arms around Deeks' chest, pulling him away from Kensi and instructing him to give them room to work. He could hear Sam filling the paramedics in on the details of what had happened.

"Name's Kensi, 29 years old… She's a federal agent. She received a minor gunshot wound to the right temple about 7 minutes ago which caused her to fall over the edge of the pier into the water," Sam stated, his tone urgent but controlled. "She was in the water for just over 3 minutes before we got to her. We administered rescue breaths in the water, and have been giving CPR since we got her to shore 2 minutes ago."

Deeks sat there, about a meter away, sopping wet in the sand, watching dumbly as the lead paramedic nodded, putting an oxygen mask on her and hooking her up to and AED. The flat-line tone sounded immediately, and to the blonde it was like nails on a chalk-board; he couldn't stand it.

"Asystole," the first paramedic stated coolly. "Pushing Epi, charge to 200."

While the first medic injected Kensi with the epinephrine, the second charged the AED, before calling out, "Clear," and administering the shock to the female agent's heart.

Deeks felt his stomach lurch as Kensi convulsed and stiffened. There was a brief silence before the flat-line tone rang out of the AED's tinny speakers.

"Charge to 250."

"Clear!"

Again, his partner convulsed, and again, silence before the flat-line tone followed.

_Please, _Deeks mind screamed as his throat burned and vision blurred uncontrollably.

"Okay, let's push Epi again, and charge to 300."

Callen gripped Deeks' left shoulder, fingers squeezing hard enough to leave bruises. Sam was pacing backwards and forwards close by, hands behind his head. Deeks squeezed his eyes closed, unable to watch anymore.

_Please please please…_

"Clear!"

Silence from the monitor, and then Deeks heard the most beautiful sound he had ever heard in his life.

Kensi coughed, once, twice, and then the paramedics rolled her onto her side and pulled the oxygen mask away from her face as she brought up what seemed to be a gallon of water.

The AED speakers let out a slow, but steady rhythmic beep, confirming what the detective could already see with his own eyes.

His partner was alive.

He couldn't stop a watery laugh of sheer relief from bubbling out of his lips. He looked up to Callen, whose hand was still on his left shoulder, though the grip had lessened substantially, and saw a similar look of relief on his team leader's face.

"Alright, we've got a rhythm, but she's still bradychardic," the first paramedic began, checking the read-out on the AED monitor. "Pulse-Ox is 64 and climbing. BP 83/55." Deeks watched as he rolled Kensi onto her back and shone a pen-light into each of her polychrome eyes, a grim expression on his middle-aged face. "Pupil response is sluggish, but it's there. Let's stabilize her as much as possible and get her onto the ambulance ASAP." He started to intubate her as the second paramedic dressed the bullet graze which had started to bleed again now that her circulation had been restored.

"Wait," Deeks asked, his voice tremulous. "What does that mean? She's gonna be okay, right?"

Sam returned to Kensi's side, assisting the paramedics as they rolled her onto a scoop stretcher and wrapped her in a blanket before the lead paramedic turned to the younger blonde man, eyes firm but compassionate.

"It means she's not out of the woods yet, but the fact that her pupils are responsive is a good sign. We'll know more once we get her to the hospital and the doctors take a look at her." And then, without another word, the paramedics lifted the stretcher, fully loaded with Kensi and the various bits of medical apparatus she was hooked up to, and started heading back in the direction of the ambulance parked up 20 yards away at the beach edge.

Deeks grabbed Callen's arm with both hands and used it to shakily drag himself to his feet, his body weighed down by exhaustion and his soaking wet clothes as Sam called out to the paramedics once more. "Which hospital are you taking her to?"

It was the second paramedic who responded as the first disappeared around back of the ambulance with Kensi. "Pacific Beach Medical," was all he said, and then he ran round to the driver's side door of the vehicle and jumped in, firing up the sirens and blue lights before taking off in the direction of the hospital.

The three men stared at the back of the gradually shrinking ambulance as it tore off down the street. When it rounded the corner and disappeared out of sight, Callen sighed and stooped down to retrieve Kensi's discarded jacket and vest. Deeks turned his back to his team, walking a few paces down the beach and jamming the heels of his shaking hands into his eye sockets. He took several trembling breaths, desperately trying to control his frantic heart rate, before running his hands back through his unruly hair.

_She's alive she's alive she's alive._

He felt a large hand grasp his shoulder from behind before Sam spoke, his voice strong and reassuring. "Kensi's strong Deeks; she's gonna make it."

"Yeah," Deeks sighed in agreement, desperately hoping that Sam was right.

xxx


	4. The Wait - Part I

**A/N: **First things first, thanks as always to everyone who reviewed, faved and followed this story. I'm completely thrilled to see so many people taking an interest in these words I'm writing, it's really motivating me to keep trying, even when the words don't come as easy as I wish they would!

Which brings me to my second point, to those of you who were waiting for an update: I am _so _sorry about the long wait everyone! To say I've struggled with this chapter would be a bit of an understatement, and in all honesty I'm still not 100% happy with it. But hey, I've come to the conclusion that my super critical self never will be, so I'm posting it anyway! I do hope you enjoy this instalment, and it isn't too disappointing after such a long wait.

Thanks again for reading.

xxx

**Chapter 4: The Wait - Part I**

_Sometimes the things you complain most about are the things you care most about. Unfortunately you don't always know that before it's too late. -** Grey's Anatomy**_

xxx

12.24pm

Two hours ago Marty Deeks had been sitting in the front passenger seat of Kensi's beloved SRX, eyes focused on the road ahead and the pouring rain falling on the windshield. At that time he'd honestly felt like he was having one of the worst days of his adult life. He'd felt like the entire universe was conspiring against him, like his day couldn't possibly get any worse and like the unluckiest guy in the world. And all because of a leaky roof, sleeping in and a _fucking broken windshield!_

Now, seated in exactly the same place only 120 minutes later, glaring out at the tail-lights of the car in front, he was so angry at himself for being so completely and overly dramatic about what was, in reality, only a series of moderately unfortunate events.

Two hours ago, he'd genuinely considered a bunch of trivial mishaps to be the absolute bane of his existence. But now, everything was different.

Everything was _wrong._

Gone was the techno music and Kensi's slightly off-key humming, switched instead for the rumble of the SUV's engine and Callen's brooding silence. The male agent's conventional driving style replaced his partner's usual _enthusiasm_ behind the wheel. Santa Monica Pier was no longer the vehicle's final destination; instead they were about a mile away from their new terminus, the Pacific Beach Medical Facility, where Kensi had been taken just ten minutes prior.

It was funny (in that 'it's funny because it's not really not very funny _at all'_ kind of way) - all of the things that had previously peeved him when travelling with his partner; the poor choice of music, the almost daily dose of death defying near-misses, the Twinkie wrappers stuffed into every conceivable crevice and the adamant refusal to ever let Deeks drive her car; in that moment he would have sold his soul to the devil to have those very things back.

_To have her back, _he amended internally, feeling his anger sliding away, shifting to anguish for what had to be the billionth time in the last five minutes. She was one of only a handful of people he could call a true friend, someone he cared about deeply – _much_ _too deeply_, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Hetty's echoed in his mind_ –_ and he _needed_ her to be okay. And ever since she'd been loaded onto the back of that ambulance, clinging to life by a mere thread, he'd heard no news of her condition. He had no idea if she was still alive, or if she'd…

Once again, the detective felt himself on nearing the verge of panic and stopped that train of thought dead in it's tracks. He couldn't allow himself to even consider the possibility that she wouldn't survive this. Like Sam had said earlier, Kensi was strong, she'd make it.

_She will pull through. _

He repeated those four words in his head like a mantra until the ice-cold dread squeezing at his heart loosened it's grasp just a little bit.

With a worn-out sigh, the detective folded his arms across his chest and rested his head against the cool glass of the passenger side door, eyes downcast, watching the blur of the asphalt whizzing by. He saw Callen send another glance in his direction in the window's reflection, but just like every time before, he chose not to acknowledge it. He knew that this uncharacteristic silence he'd fallen into had his team leader worried, but honestly, he couldn't bring himself to care. The events of the last couple of hours - the shoot-out, Kensi's drowning, dragging her lifeless body back to shore, her _death_ and subsequent revival – it had left the younger man at his physical and emotional limit. He _couldn't _care about anything else, there simply wasn't room.

When Callen brought the SUV to a stop for a red traffic signal, Deeks watched distractedly as a young couple wearing brightly colored raincoats were blown hand-in-hand along the crosswalk in front of the SUV, laughing heartily, and going about their daily lives without a care in the world.

He was so fixed on putting a lid on the entirely irrational surge of anger that flashed through him at the sight of two people enjoying themselves when his partner had been _dead_ not too long ago, that his brain didn't even register the fact that Callen was talking to him until about 3 seconds after the Agent had finished.

"Hm?" he murmured, raising his head up off the glass of the window and glancing in the other man's direction momentarily.

Callen sighed. "I _said _that we need to find you some dry clothes. You're shaking."

The liaison officer uncrossed his arms and held his hands out in front of him, palms upwards, and realized that yes, he was shaking. In fact, he was shaking _a lot_; though he wasn't convinced it was exclusively due to the cold, wet clothes he was still wearing.

"My go-bag is in the trunk of the car," he answered abruptly, as he huddled his arms around himself once again. "I'll change at the hospital."

O_nce I know that Kensi is going to be okay, _he tacked on internally.

Callen didn't look too satisfied with that answer, but much to Deeks' relief he seemed to decide against pressing the issue further, instead returning his gaze the traffic signal – though not before taking the time to crank the climate control up to the maximum temperature.

The blonde just returned his temple to the passenger side window and closed his eyes as the car rolled back into motion.

_She will pull through. She will pull through. She will pull through._

She had to. It was the only outcome he could live with.

Xxx

March 2011

_They were in the car on the way to pick up a suspect for questioning when _that _song started blaring through the CRX's speakers for what must have been the third time that day, and probably the thirtieth time that week. Deeks' head was still aching after a few too many beers on last night's poor excuse for a date, and Kensi's unabashed indifference to his misery (no matter how self-inflicted that misery may be) was really starting to rile him. So when he recognized the opening refrain of that song, it really was the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back, and with an angry growl Deeks suddenly leaned forward and ripped the green iPod Nano out of it's docking station and threw it forcefully over his shoulder onto the backseat of the car._

_There was a moment of blissful, heavenly silence before Kensi's angry voice rang out. "You did _not _just do that!"_

_The Detective turned to face her. "Actually, I'm pretty sure I just did. Would it kill you to lower the volume for five minutes?" Kensi rolled her eyes derisively and Deeks felt annoyance surge through him. "Or better yet, how about changing the tracks on your iPod every now and again? I swear to god, if I never have to listen to that Neyo track again, it will be way too soon!"_

"_Okay first of all, it's _Nero_, idiot! And second, what the hell is your problem?"_

_This time it was Deeks who barked out a short laugh, though he was anything but amused. "Really Fern? What's '_my' _problem?"_

"_Yes Deeks, 'your' problem," she ground out. "And for the last time, stop calling me Fern!"_

"_My problem, Fern," he began incredulously, studiously ignoring the Fern comment, "is that I have a self-centered partner who insists on blasting the same atrocious music at, like, a bazillion decibels of volume, day in, day out, with absolutely no regard for the feelings of the people around her! That's what my problem is!"_

_Kensi didn't respond to that, and Deeks looked back across at her just in time to notice the flash of hurt that passed across her features, and swiftly felt his anger dissipate and shame take it's place. Whilst most of the time Deeks was an easy-going guy, he could be a real tool sometimes (especially when hung-over), and she absolutely did not deserve to be spoken to like that, by him or anyone else. Suddenly he was struck by the need to apologize to her, to wipe that look of hurt from her face and beg her for forgiveness, but just as he opened his mouth to say the words, she scowled and reached for the center console, switching the stereo system to radio mode and her favorite station, turning the volume up as loud as it would go. _

_The very familiar (and extraordinarily loud) chorus of 'Guilt' by Nero cut through the angry atmosphere like a hot knife through butter, - Seriously, what were the chances of the very song that started this fight being played on the radio at that precise moment? – and Kensi and Deeks looked at each other in shock, before they both bursting into tickled laughter._

_And just like that, the tension between the pair dissipated, and everything was back to normal._

_Slowing the car down for a traffic signal, Kensi reached out to the console once again and turned the volume down to a much lower volume, still chuckling to herself, and Deeks reached out, grabbing her hand in his and pulling it gently away from the dial. When she looked back over in his direction questioningly he stared straight into her eyes and with all the sincerity he could muster, uttered out a single word in apology. _

"_Sorry."_

_Kensi just smiled that bright, beautiful smile of hers, polychrome eyes glowing with warmth and forgiveness, and tightened her long fingers around his own. Deeks felt his heart swell in his chest._

_God, she was beautiful, and it was in moments like this that Deeks thought he might just be falling head over heels in love with this woman._

"_You're forgiven," she uttered, squeezing his hand in hers one last time, oblivious to Deeks' astonishment at that epiphany he'd had just seconds earlier, and released him, returning her hand to the steering wheel and her attention to the road ahead. _

_And then, in that threatening tone he was so used to: "But if you _ever_ touch my iPod again, you'll be spending the next six months pissing through a catheter. Understand me?"_

_He let out a snort of amusement in response to that statement but said nothing else as the car rolled back into motion, completely distracted by his own internal musings. There was no maybe about it; he was definitely falling for his partner._

_This was going to be a problem._

xxx

12:43pm

The drenched Liaison Officer stormed through the automatic doors of the ER entrance and straight through the double doors into the main triage room just beyond the waiting area, deliberately ignoring the protests of the one woman behind the nurse's station and the large "No Unauthorized Entry" sign written in block capitals above the corridor where he was headed for. Deeks had spent way too much time in the Pacific Medical Center over the years (either on police business, as a patient or a visitor) and was therefore familiar enough with the layout of the ER it's protocols, deducting that due to the seriousness of her condition, Kensi would have been taken to one of the private trauma rooms at the back of the triage area.

Striding down the corridor, Deeks quickly scanned the small whiteboards beside each doorway, reading the names of the patient housed within. It wasn't until he reached the last door at the end of the corridor – Trauma Room D – that he found what he was looking for; the board with her name scrawled across it red dry-wipe ink.

BLYE, KENSI M

Suddenly fearful of what he might find behind the door, Deeks closed his eyes and took several deep, calming breaths before reaching out with his left hand and pushed the door open, edging his way through.

The room was crammed full of medical staff and machinery, but Deeks paid no heed to that, eyes seeking out and immediately landing on the brunette woman lying stationary on a gurney in the center of the room.

The woman whose chest was still rising and falling, whose skin tone definitely held more color than the last time he'd seen her, and whose heart rate sounded out a clear and steady rhythm over the noise of the controlled chaos within the trauma room.

The relief that Deeks felt to see his partner _still alive_ was insurmountable and for a moment he thought his legs might buckle under the strength of the emotion coursing through him.

It was at that moment that one of the nurses in the room, a short, rather plump woman in blue scrubs turned and noticed him standing in the corner of the room and strode towards him.

"Sir, you shouldn't be in here," she stated firmly, placing her hand on the center of his chest and pushing him back towards the door. The other doctors and nurses in the room looked up at him briefly, curious to see who the intruder was he supposed, before returning their attention their patient.

Deeks planted his feet firmly in the ground, resisting the nurse's relentless pushing. He grabbed his LAPD badge from his back pocket (he was yet to thank Callen for picking it and his other belongings up off the pier for him) and held it up, eyes still focused on Kensi's still form. "Detective Marty Deeks, LAPD" he stated, voice shaky and about a million miles away from the assertive tone he'd been aiming for. "Agent Blye and I work together. What's her condition?"

The nurse seemed to soften slightly at his words, and when she spoke again some small amount of sympathy bled into her tone, but despite that she still didn't back down. "I'm very sorry Detective, but we need you to leave and let us work. If you go over to the waiting area someone will be along to update you on her status as soon as possible."

Deeks still stubbornly refused to move, watching anxiously as younger nurse with blonde hair hooked Kensi up to an IV, and an older, Asian doctor picked up a chart, saying something about ordering an X-Ray and CT for Kensi's head wound.

He felt the plump nurse push again with renewed vigor. "Sir! If you don't leave right now, I'm going to have to call security."

The Asian doctor looked up from the chart she was flipping through, and Deeks saw her give a quick nod to a younger, red haired doctor who had been adjusting a monitor at the far side of Kensi's bed. The man immediately stopped what he was doing and walked over to where Deeks and the nurse were standing, placing a hand on the nurse's shoulder, who stepped aside and returned to Kensi's bedside.

"Detective Deeks, I'm Dr. Jenson, I'm a 3rd resident here at PBM" the young doctor said in thick southern drawl, holding out his hand for Deeks to shake. "How about we step out into the hallway and I can update you on Miss. Blye's condition?" he asked, gesturing towards the doorway with his free hand.

With one last mournful look at his unconscious partner, Deeks nodded and left the trauma room running his hands through his now drying hair, the strands rapidly tangling together due to the residual salt from the ocean. Dr. Jenson stepped out behind him and closing the door softly.

"Can I get one of the nurses to make you a cup of tea or coffee?" the red-haired man asked cordially as Deeks lowered himself onto an uncomfortable plastic bench next to the door, and was met with an incredulous gape from the detective in response.

"Alright," he continued awkwardly, peeling off his latex gloves and taking a seat on the bench opposite the detective. "When Miss Blye arrived at the hospital around ten minutes ago she was presenting with symptoms consistent with cerebral hypoxia triggered by warm water drowning, which is our primary concern at the moment."

Deeks immediately tensed up hearing those unfamiliar words; the anxiety that had somewhat receded at the sight of his partner alive returning full force. "Okay, what does that mean exactly?" he asked hesitantly, hands clasped tightly in front of him, knuckles white, elbows resting on his knees.

Dr. Jenson leveled his gaze at the detective and mirrored his pose, tone serious. "It means that that the levels of oxygen within the brain were insufficient, resulting in impaired brain function." He paused for a moment, giving the cop a moment to process this information. "The paramedics that brought her in said that she was in the water for approximately five minutes? Is that correct?" Deeks nodded in confirmation and Dr. Jenson eyes trailed down over the blonde man's still-soggy, but now-drying clothes. "You were the one that pulled her out of the water?"

Again, Deeks nodded and closed his eyes against the sudden onslaught of unwelcome memories associated with that question. Kensi's lips tainted grey through lack of oxygen, the sound of the flat-line tone from the AED, the crushing fear he'd felt when he realized that she might have left him for good.

The doctor's voice snapped him out of his somber musings. "The good news is that many patients who were without circulation for less than six minutes generally suffered only mild to moderate cerebral hypoxia, and most made a full recovery without any permanent brain injury.

"In your colleague's case, CPR was provided within that six minute window, and a regular rhythm was restored within seven. And there has been response in both pupils to light stimulation, and some unconscious muscle response to pain triggers which indicates that there is at least some level normal brain activity. These are all good signs in post-drowning victims."

There was a brief moment of silence as Deeks turned this information over in his head, a faint glimmer of hope sparking in his chest. "So, does that mean she's going to be okay?"

"There are still a number of other complications we need to monitor her closely for, respiratory disorders such as Pneumonia and Pulmonary Edema being amongst the more severe ones. In addition, there is some concern over the gun-shot wound Miss Blye sustained; although it was a non-penetrating GSW, the bullet can still impact with sufficient force to cause a fracture and bruising or bleeding on the brain. We've ordered an X-ray and CT to check for this.

"So whilst we won't know the full extent of damage caused to the brain by the hypoxia and the bullet until we get the results of the CT, I can say at this stage things are looking promising." Dr. Jenson smiled reassuringly then and stood up, Deeks doing the same thing. "The woman in that room has already overcome incredible odds Detective, surviving not only a GSW to the head, but drowning as well. She's a fighter, if ever I saw one."

Despite himself, Deeks managed a small smile at this (even unconscious, people still noticed how bad-ass his partner was) and reached out to shake the Doctor's hand once again. "Believe me, you have no idea."

The doctor placed a reassuring hand on Deeks shoulder briefly before heading back in the direction of the trauma room, pausing with one hand on the door. "Now it's going to be a little while until we get Miss Blye up to CT and moved to a room, so I suggest that you go change into some dry clothes, grab yourself a coffee and some food, and then head back up here in about an hour and check in at the nurse's station for another update on your friend's condition. In fact, I can get the nurses to sort you out with some scrubs to change into if you need them?"

Deeks shrugged and gestured over his shoulder towards the exit, to where he'd left Callen sat in the SUV on the telephone with Hetty. "Uh, actually, another colleague of mine should be coming in shortly with a change of clothes for me. But thanks."

Dr. Jenson nodded in response and re-entered the trauma room, pulling the door closed behind him, and the detective slowly sat back down on the bench, running his hands down his face and appreciating a brief moment of respite from the crippling worry of the last hour.

Kensi was still alive, which was a miracle in itself, and for the first time all day Deeks finally felt like things might actually start going his way.

Because if there was one thing Deeks had could put his faith in, it was his girl Kensi; an honest-to-god, real-life wonder woman who hadn't backed down from or lost a fight, no matter how much the odds were stacked against her, in the entire time he had known her.

He trusted her, she wouldn't let him down.

xxx


	5. The Wait - Part II

**A/N **– The usual round of thanks to everyone who reviewed, followed or favourited this fic. You are all amazing!

And without further ado, I present to you part 2 of 'The Wait'. Apologies in advance for any mistakes. Hope you enjoy…

xxx

**The Wait – Part II**

xxx

February 2012

_He couldn't believe she was still standing._

_It had been one hell of a day for the whole team, but it was Kensi in particular who'd had it roughest of all (and really, the adjective 'roughest' was an understatement of mammoth proportions). In the space of one day she'd gone from 'federal agent' to 'murder suspect' to 'wanted fugitive'. She'd taken a high-velocity sniper round to her vest and had the cracked rib to prove it. She'd been attacked by trained hit-men on three separate occasions (that Deeks knew of), the latter of those times resulting in her receiving multiple knife wounds and a not-so-gentle tumble down a flight of stairs. Oh, and let's not forget how she solved a 12 year old murder case, brought her father's killer to justice, and was reunited with her estranged mother._

_All in __one__ day. _

_And now, there she stood in the corridor just outside his apartment door, looking more than a little banged up, but otherwise completely unfazed by recent events. _

_He'd called her Wonder Woman in the past, but now he was thinking that it wasn't really a fair comparison to draw; Wonder Woman wouldn't stand a chance in a battle with Bad-Ass Blye. Kensi would crush her into oblivion, silly costume, seventies-flick hairstyle and all._

"_Why are you staring at me like that?" his partner's voice cut through his inner musing, her tone a curious mix of paranoia and amusement, and he was mortified to realise that he had in fact been doing exactly that; standing in his doorway since the moment he'd opened it to her, gaping at her with a look of completely astonished admiration. He wouldn't have been surprised if he was drooling, and fought the urge to raise his hand to his stubbled chin to check._

_Caught in the act, again!_

_He really needed to stop doing this._

_Embarrassed, the detective frantically tried to think of a witty comeback; something cheeky and charming, the perfect words to get him back on an equal footing with her. _

_Unfortunately, his brain had never seemed to hold much authority over his mouth, which naturally blurted out the very words he knew he should absolutely keep to himself._

"_You're amazing."_

_The words were softly spoken, reverent, and God-dammit – so not the words that would get him back on an equal footing with her!_

_And now he was blushing. Marvellous!_

_The detective cleared his throat and immediately attempted to back-track._

"_I mean, uh, what you've been through today, and with your injuries and all, um, it's jus…"_

_He was cut off when Kensi stepped right into his personal space and squeezed his bicep affectionately, a warm smile lighting up her face. "Deeks, stop before you hurt yourself. I know what you meant." Hey expression became more serious, almost grateful. "And I'm good. Really."_

_Actually, Deeks was pretty certain that she had absolutely no idea what he'd meant at all, but he certainly wasn't going to embarrass himself further by trying to explain the depths of his feelings for her - sentiments he was pretty sure would not be reciprocated - and just smiled back instead, gesturing for her to come inside. _

_She hobbled past him gingerly (obviously that rib was giving her more trouble than she would admit to herself) and headed straight for his kitchen like she owned the place whilst he hung back, closing and locking his apartment door. By the time he joined her she was routing around in his fridge, no doubt looking for Peanut Butter Cups, or Ho-Hos, or whatever other treats he usually stored in there for her on the off-chance that she decided to pop round for a visit. He leaned against the door-jam and folded his arms, waiting until she was done._

_He was surprised when she finally closed the fridge door and tottered back over to where he was waiting, completely chocolate-less; opening and presenting him with a single bottle of beer. _

_He looked down at the beer with suspicion, like it was somehow booby-trapped, rigged to explode in his face and Kensi sighed and rolled her eyes, grabbing his right hand and wrapping his fingers around the bottle neck, her own cool fingers wrapped around his. "You'll settle for a beer, every day, for the rest of your life? Remember?"_

_Their conversation in the Mission only a few hours earlier played out in his mind, and he promptly burst into loud, genuinely amused laughter. _

"_I meant I'll settle for you _providing _me with a beer that _you _bought with_ yourown_ money, every day, for the rest of my life," he chuckled, incredulously. "You can't just waltz into my apartment and present me with a beer that _I already own_!" _

"_Oh really?" she responded in a mischievous tone of voice, removing her hands from his own as a wide, stunning smile split across her face. "Then perhaps you should have been clearer when you laid out your terms earlier. How was I to know what your expectations were when they weren't stipulated in the original agreement? What kind of law school did you study at exactly?"_

_This time it was Deeks who rolled his eyes, still chuckling and more than a little bit amused, before tipping his head back and taking a long drag of his beer._

_When he returned his gaze to his partner, he found her staring up at him with an inscrutable expression on her face, and immediately sobered. But just as he was about to ask her what was wrong, she surprised him once again (she was doing a lot of that today) by stepping forward and wrapping her arms around his waist, resting her cheek against his shoulder – her face turned away from his, and squeezing him tightly._

"_Thank you Deeks," she started clearly, confidently. "For having my back today, I mean. I couldn't have got through it without you."_

_Deeks wrapped his own arms around his partner in response, mindful of her many injuries, and rested his chin on her shoulder, savouring this rare, intimate moment and committing the feel of her in his arms to memory._

"_You're welcome," he croaked out, and his eyes slipped closed as he drew her tighter to him and pressed his face into her hair, praying that one day in the preferably not-to- distant future, the job wouldn't be the most important thing in her life, and that he could tell exactly how her felt about her without the fear of her choosing her career over him, and destroying not only the best partnership, but one of the best friendships he'd ever had._

_Until then, he'd wait for her. _

_They had plenty of time._

xxx

4.25pm

Deeks shuffled in the hard, uncomfortable excuse for an armchair (or harm-chair, as he'd taken to calling it) for what had to be the zillionth time, trying to find a comfortable seating position and once again failing miserably.

Not much had changed in the last four hours.

Okay, actually, that wasn't a fair. Some things had changed. For one, _he'd _changed out of his soaking wet clothes and into the comfortable (and dry) sweat-pants and hoody from his go-bag. He'd been down to the canteen and drank about a gallon of coffee. He'd sent a rather morose-looking Callen back to the Mission to help Sam and the others finish things up with the Anderson case, assuring him that he would be okay on his own for a few hours, and promising to keep them updated on Kensi's condition. He'd even spoken to Dr. Jenson a little while ago, who'd informed him that Kensi's CT and X-Rays were looking good, and that they expected her to regain consciousness soon. She'd been moved up to a private room in critical-care unit, which was what he sat in the corner of at the moment, as opposed to the back row of that depressing ER waiting room.

So yeah,_ lots_ of things had changed in the last four hours.

The only thing that hadn't changed was the one thing that he wanted to above all else.

Kensi still hadn't woken up.

Once again, his eyes were drawn over to his partner who lay motionless in her hospital bed, propped up on a mountain of pillows. They'd removed her breathing tube a little while ago and replaced it with a nasal cannula (and she'd been breathing fine on her own since then, something that Deeks was hugely relieved to see). A sterile dressing was wrapped around her head, covering the graze from her bullet wound and causing her long, tangled hair to poke out at all kinds of strange angles. The clean white fabric was bright in the fluorescence of the hospital lighting, a stark contrast to the olive tone of her skin.

She was hooked up to a heart monitor, which sounded out a strong, steady heartbeat, and a lone IV hung at her right side, administering fluid and medications that Deeks couldn't remember the name or purpose of.

She was utterly still and looked so small and downright unlike herself, lying so fragile amongst the many pillows and blankets.

And yet, the sight of her breathing on her own,_ alive… _it was the most wonderful thing.

Now if only she'd open her eyes…

The blonde had tried everything he could think of to coax her to consciousness. Annoying her (four complete recitals of 'Whenever I Call You Friend' by Kenny Loggins, oohs, aahs and highnotes included, had only resulted in him getting a sore throat and some very strange looks from anyone who happened to pass by the open door to her room), antagonizing her (telling her that she sucked and looked fat in that hospital gown did not have the desired effect), bribery (_"Oh my god, Kensi, these Krispy Kreme donuts are amazing! I swear to god, I'm not saving any for you, so if you want some, you'd better wake that fine-ass of yours up right now…"_) and threats (_Kiki, if you don't open your eyes _this instant_ I'm going to find the hairiest old man in his hospital and put him in that bed with you._ _Shirtless. With his back directly in front of your face…")_, none of which had been successful.

And for every second that passed where Kensi _didn't _open her eyes and _hit him_, Deeks felt his optimism waning.

This was taking too long. Maybe orders would work?

Still seated, he dragged the heavy harm-chair along the cold hospital floor with his feet, until he was close enough to reach out and grab the rail that ran along the side of Kensi's bedside with both hands, and leaning forward he called out in the sternest voice he could manage:

"Kensi Marie Blye, this has gone on long enough. I am your partner, and I know that you like to think you are the alpha-male in this relationship, but you only think that because I am comfortable enough with _my _uber-alpha-maleness to let take the lead most of the time, because I know that it makes you happy. But no more Mr. Nice-Marty okay? Right now, you are going to listen to me and for once you are going to do as you are told," he ordered assertively. "Now, instruction number one: Open your eyes!"

He stared at her face expectantly, completely silent, unaware that he was holding his breath until a voice from somewhere close to his left ear rang out in a stern tone, and he promptly jumped out of his skin.

"If you think that Miss. Blye is going to respond to orders from _you_ Mr. Deeks, then you do not know her as well as I had thought."

Deeks whirled around in his harm-chair, heart pounding in his ears, to find Hetty standing about a foot away from his left side, looking completely calm and collected, as always. "Jesus Hetty, you scared the crap out of me," he groused as he turned back to face Kensi once again, hoping that Hetty's sudden ninja-like appearance might have somehow shocked his partner awake.

Once again, he was disappointed, and he dropped his elbows to his knees and his face into his hands as his heart-rate began to slow back down to it's usual rhythm. When he lifted his head again, Hetty had joined him at the railing by Kensi's bedside, though her laser-focus was aimed at squarely at him rather than the other female NCIS agent in the room.

"How is she doing Mr. Deeks?"

Deeks let out a huff of flippant laughter at this, and sat back, turning his head to look at the petite woman incredulously. "I don't know Hetty, why don't you ask_ her_ that?" he asked facetiously, gesturing towards Kensi's prone form on the bed. "Oh wait, you can't, because she's _still_ unconscious," he griped sarcastically, "I'm sorry, my bad!"

If Hetty was in any way bothered by Deeks' juvenile behaviour she didn't show it, instead just staring at him levelly with that appraising gaze of hers; the one that made him feel like she was staring right into the darkest recesses of his brain, reading all of his secrets and emotions like they were written all over his face for the whole world to see. It terrified him when she looked at him like that, and he felt himself start to wilt under her scrutiny.

"I spoke with Doctor Jenson on the way over here," the diminutive lady began thoughtfully. "He informed me that Miss. Blye's CT showed normal brain function, that she was breathing well on her own and that he saw no reason why she would not make a full and complete recovery."

Again, Deeks' gaze slid away from his boss's and back to his partner's expressionless face. "Yeah, well," he sighed despondently, "he told me that hours ago, and she isn't showing any signs of waking up."

He saw Hetty turn her considering stare towards Kensi in his peripheral vision, and for a few moments the only sound in the room was the intermittent beep from the heart monitor. When Hetty finally spoke again, her tone was just a touch sterner. "You know, Mr. Callen is quite upset about what transpired this morning," she began conversationally, pausing for a moment as Deeks turned that comment over in his mind, his gaze flying back over to his superior. "Mr. Hanna too," she continued, her tiny hands clasped tightly behind her back. "They both feel like they are somehow to blame for what happened this morning."

Deeks shuffled uncomfortably in the harm-chair as a brief flash of guilt surged through him. He'd be lying if he said that the very same thought hadn't crossed him mind this afternoon, several times over in fact. Both he and Kensi had voiced their concerns over their hastily-thrown-together plan to take Simms down, and they had fallen on deaf ears.

However, he also knew that Callen and Sam had just been following orders, and that ultimately, Simms was a dangerous terrorist that they absolutely could not afford let go.

And it wasn't like he or Kensi had come forward with a better idea.

So no, he decided finally, he didn't blame Sam _or _Callen for anything that had went down on that pier. "They shouldn't," he said quietly. If anything, he blamed himself for what had happened. He should have listened to his instincts that morning, should have took the left side of the pier, pulled the trigger faster, got in the water sooner, got her to the surface quicker…

"And neither should you Mr. Deeks."

The blonde looked back to her, surprised. "She's _my _partner Hetty. I'm supposed to have her back."

Hetty turned her gaze back to Deeks. "And that is exactly what you did. Miss. Blye was underneath the pier. Had _you _not put yourself in harm's way by jumping into the water after her, we would not be standing in this room having this conversation. It was _your actions _that saved her life, Mr. Deeks."

Deeks swallowed roughly, and not for the first time today, felt the sensation of tears threatening at back of his eyes. "Then why does it feel like I've let her down?" he whispered, staring down at his feet and blinking furiously.

At this, Hetty just smiled that enigmatic smile of hers and reached into her purse, retrieving Deeks' cell phone from within and holding it out for him to take. "Mr. Callen asked that I bring this to you. He said that you left it on charge in Miss. Blye's car." Deeks reached out and took the phone from her, thumbing on the power as she continued. "He also asked me to tell you that he and Sam will head over to your apartment once they've finished for the day and take Monty out for a walk, and see what they can do about repairing your leak."

Deeks managed a small smile at this, and nodded in thanks to Hetty, who turned and headed for the doorway, before pausing in it and speaking one last time.

"There is no problem so awful, Mr. Deeks, that you can't add some guilt to it and make it even worse. Miss. Blye will wake up soon enough. See that you call me when she does." And with that entirely enigmatic statement and stern order, the woman with the diminutive stature, but the heart of a lion strode purposely out of the room, leaving the detective staring dumbfounded at the space she had once occupied.

It was only when the message alert tone sounded from his cell that he returned to the here-and-now, and he looked down at the glowing screen to see that there were 3 unread messages and 7 missed calls since yesterday evening.

And every single one of them from Kensi.

Sitting upright suddenly, the detective clicked on her name to open the message screen and read each one of the three SMS messages.

_-"Hey partner, you didn't sleep in again did you? You're supposed to be picking me up this morning, remember? K." – Received 8.20am -_

_-"Can't wait any longer, so I'm just going to drive in. Take care driving into work this morning, the weather is terrible. K._

"_PS, Answer your phone!" – Received 8.35am -_

_-"Deeks, if you aren't already lying in a ditch somewhere, you will be very soon, cos I am going to kick your ass! Where the hell are you? If I don't hear from you in the next 5 mins I'm calling Mrs. Renholm to knock on your apartment door and check on you. Don't think I won't do it partner!" – Received 9.08am, -_

By the time Deeks had read the last text message, a huge smile had split across his face; this contact with Kensi (even in the form of three text messages sent to him seven hours prior) filling him with a renewed sense of hope, and he looked back up to the prone form of his partner.

"I'm counting on that ass-kicking Kens, so you'd better not let me down, okay?" he stated tenderly, reaching forward and brushing an errant strand of hair away from her closed eyes and then settling back down in the harm-chair once again, ready and waiting for her to open her eyes and tell him she was 'fine'.

Harm-chair be damned, he wasn't going to leave her room again until Kensi came round, and he didn't care how long it took.

xxx

8.02pm

Something cold, hard and moving at speed hit him in the square in the chest and Deeks woke up with a startled gasp, bolting upright in that god-awful harm-chair and wincing when his aching muscles (the strain of this morning's swim was really starting to kick in now) screamed in protest at the sudden movement. Blinking furiously as his eyes readjusted to the harsh fluorescent lighting of Kensi's private hospital room, the detective looked down at himself, trying to figure out what it was that had woken him so suddenly.

He found the answer sitting in his lap; a stainless steel bed pan (clean, thank God!) lay haphazardly on his legs, his distorted reflection staring back up at him on the shiny metal surface.

_What the hell?_

It took a few seconds for the normally-sharp detective's sleep-addled mind to piece together the chain of events that had led to him taking a flying bed pan to the chest, but when he did eventually work it out his eyes immediately flew up to the room's only other occupant.

And all of the air whooshed out of his lungs when he saw her beautiful, mismatched eyes staring right back at him.

xxx


	6. The Turning Point

**A/N: **So here we are with chapter 6 of what was supposed to be a 5 chapter story, and the chapter that was supposed to be the final chapter. But hey, this one ran away from me a little, meaning that we now still have one to go!

And as usual, huge,_ huge _thanks to everyone who followed, favourited or reviewed the last chapter. I was completely blown away by the volume of reviews you guys wrote last time around, and I honestly appreciate the time you took to write them. They really encouraged me to keep going. Big loves to you all.

And now, here we go with the penultimate chapter of this story! I hope you enjoy it.

xxx

**The Turning Point**

_"We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures." **― Thornton Wilder**_

xxx

Kensi's eyes were open and she was staring at Deeks blankly like she _hadn't_ just awoken from unconsciousness and hurled a bed-pan at him, and for a brief moment the detective was stunned into an astonished silence as his poor, half-awake brain attempted to process the sudden influx of conflicting emotions rolling through him.

There was unbelievable relief and happiness, obviously, to know that she was back in the land of the living and to see those beautiful, mismatched eyes open and gazing in his direction.

But there was also a complete lack of recognition, of emotion, of _anything '_Kensi' within her dark, espresso irises that immediately brought about a deep sense of unease within him. She hadn't made any attempt to speak to him yet - was looking right at him like she had absolutely no idea who he was – and suddenly Deeks needed to hear her voice, to hear he say his name and prove to him that she was still the wonderful, impossible woman that he knew and loved.

If only he could get his own voice to work, he could ask her how she was doing and hopefully get the confirmation from her that he so urgently desired.

The staring went on for a few more seconds, the tension thick in the cool air of Kensi's hospital room, building and building until Deeks couldn't take it's pressure anymore and finally found his voice (or at least, some weak semblance of it).

"You're awake."

The words were tentative, brimming with a concern, spoken so softly that Deeks was almost certain she hadn't heard them over the rhythmic beep of her heart monitor.

The slight change in Kensi's expression, however, confirmed to him that she had. He watched warily as her gaze wandered over him slowly, an unreadable expression on her face as she took in his appearance, from his face to down to his hands that were now clenched around the edge of the bedpan she'd chucked at him, knuckles white.

She met his eyes once more, licked her lips, before speaking in a breathless, raspy tone that was barely louder than a whisper. "Deeks, you okay?"

Three words. Three simple words, but they told the detective everything he so desperately needed to know in that moment, and he let out a sigh of sheer, unbridled relief, sitting back in his chair, dropping the bedpan back onto the floor next to him with a clang and dragging his hands down his face as he forced down the sudden lump rising in his throat.

And then it occurred to him what she'd just asked him and he let out a small huff of disbelieving laughter. "Really Kens, _you_ wake up in a hospital bed, and you're asking me if_ I'm_ okay?"

"You looked unhappy," she stated simply, shocking him with her honest answer, her mismatched brown eyes boring into his own blue ones, challenging him to tell her what was on his mind. Deeks wasn't sure he could handle such honesty at that precise moment without (not without dissolving into some kind of emotional wreck anyway), so instead he did one of the things he was best at; he deflected.

"Well I gotta admit, I'm a little wounded over here. I mean, I'm just sitting here, minding my own business and you throw a bed pan at me?"

Kensi rolled her eyes at him in and let out a small laugh. "Actually, I _tried _to wake you up. Several times over in fact," she croaked out in that feeble voice, grimacing slightly as though it was hurting her to speak. "I guess you couldn't hear me over all that snoring you were doing."

"Uh-uh, sorry Princess. As we both already know, I _don't _snore. You however…" Deeks protested as he stood up with a grimace of his own (_oh my god, how stiff were his muscles?_) and grabbed a plastic cup of water from the cabinet next to her bedside, holding it out for her to take "You need some help raising the bed?"

He expected her to reject his offer of assistance, but she surprised him by nodding her head gently and reaching with both hands to take the water from him. As she took a few tentative sips of the room-temperature liquid through the bright green straw, Deeks lowered the railings on his side of the bed and reached over her for the control, clicking the button to elevate the head-end of the bed and releasing it when she nodded in his direction to indicate that she was comfortable, rasping out a soft "thanks" in appreciation.

Deeks perched himself on the edge of her bed and took the cup off her, setting it back on the cabinet, and then placed his left hand on her left forearm. "How are you feeling?"

She swallowed again, looking thoughtful. "Um, sore, breathless," She looked down at her body, presumably checking for obvious injuries, "and confused, I guess. Why am I here?"

_Well isn't that the million dollar question? _Deeks thought to himself, wondering how on earth he was going to tell her what had gone down today when he could barely even allow_ himself_ to remember without panic seizing him. "What's the last thing you remember?" he asked, watching her face as she watched her hands, fidgeting with the SPo2 sensor on her right index finger, a look of concentration wrinkling her brow.

"We were in your apartment. I brought you coffee, I think. You were running late for work?" she questioned, eyes meeting his for confirmation.

Deeks nodded and gave her arm a gentle squeeze of reassurance, beyond relieved to hear that her memories of this morning were relatively intact. "That was this morning. Do you remember anything else after that?"

"Uh, I'm not sure."

Deeks decided he should fill in some of the blanks for her. "You picked me up from home this morning just after 10 o'clock. I'd, uh, locked myself out of my apartment." An embarrassed grin crossed his face at this, and Kensi smirked back at him, amused, "and my car was out of commission, so you came to take me to work."

He paused for a minute, allowing her time to absorb the information before continuing on in a quiet tone. "We were heading to Santa Monica Pier to bring in John-Jim…"

"Simms," she finished for him, still croaking, but nodding eagerly as she recalled more details. "Leader of the AIF. Eric had intercepted an email from Mikael Anderson arranging a weapons-buy at 11.45"

"That's right. The plan was to apprehend him on the pier, but due to the storm we had a little trouble setting up cover."

"I remember. Callen and Sam were to wait on the pier, and we were to provide back-up."

She was gazing up at him expectantly and Deeks swallowed and averted his eyes, well aware that they'd now reached the point in the story where he'd have to tell her exactly what had happened to her, and relive those terrifying moments all over again.

He wasn't sure he could bring himself to do it.

"Maybe I should go get your doctor. He'll need to know you're awake," he uttered as he removed his hand from Kensi's arm, preparing to stand.

Of course, his partner saw the ruse for exactly what it was, a patently obvious attempt to change the subject, and reached out to grab his hand firmly, her long, elegant fingers entwining with his. "Deeks," she prompted.

He swallowed and focussed on the screen of her heart monitor, watching the green zigzag line as it displayed the rhythm of her beating heart. "We were on the pier; things were going according to plan until Simms… Um, I don't know what happened exactly but something spooked him I guess, and he pulled his gun on Callen."

Kensi stiffened suddenly, her grip on Deeks fingers tightening substantially, and he wondered if she'd remembered what happened to her next. Looking back to her face, he saw panic clear across her features, but the next words out of her mouth took him by surprise (though if he'd been thinking clearly they shouldn't have). "Oh my god, is Callen okay?"

Deeks thought back over his last words and mentally kicked himself in the cul-de-sac. Hard! Of course she would have taken his words the way she had done – would make the assumption that something bad had happened to her Callen, especially with Deeks' avoidance reluctance to discuss the subject and the absence of OSP's other pair of partners. He had to correct this, fast. "Yeah, no, I mean, Sam and Callen are fine," he blurted in the most reassuring tone he could muster, rubbing his thumb over the back of her knuckles as she sighed and threw her head back on the pillows in relief. "They're actually waiting for a call from me to tell them you woke up, then they are going to come over and visit."

She looked around the room suddenly, eyes searching the walls for _something_. "How long have I been out?"

Deeks glanced down at the watch on his left wrist. "A little over eight hours. It's just gone 8pm."

He could practically hear the cogs whirling in her brain as she lined this information up with the other facts he'd given her, piecing the events together in her head. "Whatever happened to me, it happened on the pier, right?" she deduced correctly and Deeks nodded, gaze returning to the heart-monitor.

"We had our guns pulled on Simms, and he looked like he was going to come in easy." A hint of anger was sneaking into his tone, and Deeks did nothing to hide it. "He was down on the ground, lowering his gun, and we all thought we had him. And then the bastard went and span on us, firing wildly. Me and Sam took him out, but it was too late. The dumb son of a bitch didn't even have a chance to aim properly, but somehow he still managed to get you." He could feel Kensi's grip tighten around his fingers, her skin warm and reassuring and _alive_, and he met her gaze once again. "The bullet clipped you in the right temple and ricocheted off your skull."

She raised her free hand up to her brow, skimming it across the dressing on her forehead and wincing when she made contact with the still painful wound. "That would explain why it feels like there's a demolition crew working inside my head," she said with a wry grin, "but it doesn't explain why my chest feels like Sam's been using my lungs as punch bags."

Deeks tried, he _honestly_ tried, but he couldn't bring himself to smile back at her, couldn't _joke_ about this with her, not when he'd come so close to losing her. And with that thought he felt moisture gathering behind his eyes.

Alarmed (he was _not _going to cry in front of his partner, she'd never let him hear the end of it!), he jerked his hand free from Kensi's warm grasp and stood, taking a few hasty steps away from the bed and standing with his back to her; his gaze focussed on an ugly painting of ducks hanging on the wall before him as he dragged his hands through his salt-matted hair and took several deep, calming breaths.

They weren't working.

He heard the rustle of sheets as Kensi shifted in the bed behind him, and he_ knew_ she wanted him to continue, to tell her just it was that had happened to her - what it was that was_ so_ bad he couldn't bring himself to say it out loud - but to her credit she remained silent, waiting patiently for him to continue.

When he did, he managed to keep most of the emotion out of his voice, his tone steady and even. "When that bullet hit you, you were standing by the side of the pier. It knocked you out cold and you fell over the railing. By the time I got over to where you'd been standing, the waves had already dragged you way, I couldn't see you..."

"So you jumped in after me," she supplied immediately, her words laced with such certainty and such steely conviction; like there was no other option conceivable to her. And for a scant moment Deeks was warmed to know she had such faith in him.

"I _had _to," he replied firmly as he shoved his clenched fists into his sweatpants pockets. "The waves were _so _rough, and you were shot, and it took me so long to find you." His voice cracked, and he took a deep breath to compose himself. "By the time I got to you back to the beach, you weren't breathing. Sam and Callen had to give you CPR until the paramedics arrived with an AED." The sheets rustled behind him once again and he listened to the beep of her steady pulse through the heart monitor - that beautiful reminder that she was still with him - as he dragged in a shuddering breath, steeling himself for his next tremulous words.

"When I heard the flat-line tone from that monitor, every time that they shocked you and you didn't respond, I was so sure you were dead Kens… that you weren't coming back this time, and it _killed_ me, you know? I haven't felt fear like that since I was eleven years old."

The poorly painted ducks on the wall blurred suddenly, and Deeks sniffed, reaching up to wipe away the tears that (to his complete mortification) had gathered in his eyes. The events of the day, the emotions he'd been bottling up, the crippling fear and the utter physical and emotional exhaustion was just too much to take and he tried to swallow past the thick lump in his throat, to even out his breathing, but it was no use. For every tear he wiped away, a new one just formed in it's place.

And now he was crying like a seven year old girl in front of his partner. Amazing.

Kensi's soft, concerned voice echoed through the room. "Come over here."

He sniffed again and pressed the tips of his fingers into the corners of his eyes, taking deep breaths and calming himself so he could face her.

Apparently, Kensi took his silence to mean he was ignoring her, as her next words, although rasped out in that weak, breathless voice of hers, were firm and unyielding. "I mean it Deeks. If you don't come over to me, I'll climb out of this bed and come over there to you. You know I'll do it."

And he did know (oh how well he knew that) so with a deep sigh and one finally scrub of his face, the blonde detective turned and walked back to the side of her bed. Her own eyes were filled with compassion as she reached out and took his left hand in both of hers, tugging at him until he was sat at her bedside once again.

"I'm sorry."

Well, he wasn't expecting her to say _that _and he let out a watery huff of amusement."_You're_ sorry? What do you have to be sorry about?"

She gazed at him levelly. "For scaring you and putting you through hell. I don't know how I would have coped had the situation been reversed."

He reached out with his free hand and ran a knuckle along the side of her face reverently, amazed at just how loaded, how important those words were from her – at what that sentence might mean for them and _their thing_, before bringing his palm to rest against the warm flesh of her shoulder and looking directly into her eyes, a small, tender smile crinkling at the corners of his own. "You're forgiven Princess. Just don't do that to me again, okay?"

"I'll try," she nodded, a fond grin spreading across her own face as she held his gaze.

_I'll try_ wasn't anywhere near to a promise, but with the line of work they were in, Deeks knew that her promising such a thing would be downright foolish. And besides, Kensi Blye rarely failed at anything she tried (cooking and cleaning excepting of course) and he trusted her to do her best. For him, a tenth of her best would always be more than enough.

Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to her right cheek for a few long seconds and then wrapped his right arm around her shoulders and his left around her torso, pulling her tight against his chest and pressing another quick kiss into her knotted hair. "I'm going to hold you to that Fern," he half-whispered as Kensi wrapped her own arms around him and rested her chin on his shoulder.

She chuckled but said nothing more, settling in his embrace and rubbing her own hand up and down his back soothingly, and Deeks decided right there and then that consequences be damned, he was going to kiss her.

At least, that was until they were interrupted by the sound of knocking at the door to Kensi's room.

Pulling away from her reluctantly, Deeks turned his head and found Dr. Jenson standing in the doorway, staring at the pair with a warm smile on his freckled face.

"Ah, Miss. Blye, you're finally awake," the third-year resident said jovially in that southern accent of his as he walked around the opposite side of Kensi's bed and introduced himself to her.

While Kensi and the doctor talked, Deeks decided that he should probably go call Hetty, Callen and Nell, all of whom had asked to be informed when his partner finally woke up. Backing up towards the doorway, Deeks waited until Kensi's eyes moved in his direction then smiled and made a telephone gesture with his right hand. She smiled and nodded, indicating that she understood, and he backed out into the empty corridor outside her room, unable to keep the wipe the huge grin off of his face.

Just under 12 hours ago, Deeks had woken up to what he'd suspected would be a pretty crummy day, a day that had then progressively gone from bad to worse, declining until the point when he'd watched Kensi take a bullet to the head and fall unconscious into the stormy ocean below.

Since then, he'd spent the last eight hours feeling sorry for himself, and thinking that today was probably one of the worst days of his life.

But right now, as he thumbed the speed dial on his cell to call Hetty, Kensi was alive, awake and well on the road to recovery, and though he'd thought that luck had abandoned him today, it turned out that actually, he was probably one of the luckiest men alive.

Deeks couldn't remember ever feeling as blissful, as blessed as he did in that moment. And his really bad day? Well, it was turning out to be a pretty good one after all.

xxx

**A/N: **Thanks for reading. One more chapter to go. For real this time!

Please feel free to leave a review :)


	7. The Really Good Day

**A/N: **I did it! I finally finished a piece of fan-fiction, yay me!

I just want to take a moment to thank each and every one of you for your follows, favourites and reviews. There is no way I would have completed this without your support, enthusiasm and encouraging comments, so seriously, thank you _so much_ for sticking with me for all this time!

So here we go. Without further ado I present chapter 7. I apologise in advance for any mistakes, cheesiness and overall sugary fluffiness. And with that being said, I hope you enjoy it.

xxx

**The Really Good Day**

"_I fell in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, then all at once." ― __**John Green**_

xxx

The two days that followed passed by in an endless blur of paperwork, sleepless nights, bad TV and even worse hospital coffee, but finally, six intrepid 'outside-of-regulation-visiting-hours' visits, six subsequent kicking-outs and about a thousand 'when can I go home(s)?' later, Marty Deeks was finally wheeling his increasingly irritable partner and her various bags towards the front door of the Pacific Beach Medical Centre.

"Jesus Kens, relax!" he chastised in an exasperated but amused tone as Kensi sunk down in the wheelchair and pouted. "No-one wants to cast aspersions on your super-human strength and god-like ability to take care of yourself, okay? It's just hospital policy."

"Yeah well, it's a dumb policy," the brunette grumbled petulantly and Deeks found himself wondering if she had any idea just how adorable she was when she was sulking.

"They're just looking out for their patients' well-being Princess. They wouldn't be good doctors if they didn't."

She snorted derisively in response to that attempt at a placating statement as he manoeuvred the wheelchair and it's precious cargo around a group of elderly ladies who'd apparently decided that the middle of a narrow corridor was the perfect place to stop and have a quick chit-chat. "Oh really? Well answer me this then: If they expect the recently discharged to spontaneously drop dead because they're not in a wheelchair on hospital property, _why_ are they sending them home in the first place? Hmm?"

He scoffed. "They don't expect people to just _drop dead_, as you so melodramatically put it. They just, uh…" _Expect them to fall and break a bone? Not have the energy to make it to the front door? Not have the compos mentis to find the exit? _The detective wracked his brain for a clever counter-point to his partner's typically air-tight argument, but in the end had to reluctantly concede defeat. "You know what? Touché, I've got nothing."

Kensi barked out a smug "ha!" as the automatic doors at the entrance slid open (god, she was so competitive) and Deeks grinned to himself as they emerged from the entrance foyer, basking in the feel of the warm summer air outside.

At least, that was until the wheelchair before him came to a complete and abrupt halt, taking him by surprise and causing him to almost trip over both the chair and the grumpy woman sat in it. A quick inspection revealed the source of the problem; Kensi gripped the hand-rims on both wheels, and she had planted both feet firmly on the ground to stop the wheelchair's forward motion.

"Kens, What the…"

"We're outside now. I want off!" Her bags were already on the ground in front of her as she made a move to stand.

"You want _off_? You know this isn't a roller-coaster, right?"

She let out another unladylike snort. "It _felt _like one the way you negotiated those corridors. Your driving sucks."

He rolled his eyes and stooped down to fold the wheelchair, considering returning it to reception but deciding he really couldn't be bothered. Instead he abandoned just inside the doorway while she gathered her belongings off the floor. "Okay, _this_ from the woman who drives with all of the enthusiasm and skill of a pre-pubescent boy."

She returned his eye-roll and threw her duffle bag at him forcefully. "Hilarious."

Catching it with both arms, he smiled his patented 'Marty Deeks Super Charming Grin' at her. "Oh and you'd know all about what's hilarious, wouldn't you Miss snort-laughs-at-reruns-of-Gary-Unmarri-OW!" He was expecting her well-aimed punch to his shoulder - because she was Kensi Blye, and when did she _not_ punch him? – but that didn't mean it hurt any less, and Deeks winced and raised his right hand to soothe what was destined to become a bruise as she spun on her heel (smug grin plastered across her face) and headed in the direction of the parking lot, a spring in her step.

He stood and watched her as she strode purposely ahead, a warm feeling settling in his chest. It was amazing really; to look at her now, no-one would ever guess that just two days ago she'd been (for all intents and purposes)_ dead. _If it wasn't for the dressing stuck to her temple, the croak in her voice and the slight stiffness with which she carried herself due to the bruising on her chest, Deeks doubted anyone would even know she'd been injured at all.

But hey, that was Kensi Blye; indestructible, insupressible, indomitable, invincible and all those other words beginning with the letters 'IN' that were synonymous with 'total bad-ass'.

Of course, regardless of her current appearance, Deeks knew exactly what had happened, and as much as he'd like to erase that particular memory, it wasn't something he would be forgetting about any time soon. The last two nights were proof of that; he'd been haunted by the sound of gunshots and crashing waves, his partner's pale, lifeless face terrifying him every time he closed his eyes.

He hadn't lied to her when he admitted just how badly she'd scared him.

God, he had it _bad_ for her.

He cast his mind back to that amazing moment a couple of nights ago after she'd woken up. He'd been emotional; she'd been sympathetic. He'd held her in his arms and she'd held him back with just as much fervour. In that moment, enveloped in her warm embrace, he'd honestly believed that she might just feel as strongly about him as she did about her, and he'd come so close – so dangerously close – to throwing caution to the wind, forgetting all the rules and just kissing her. He knew that if it wasn't for that Doctor interrupting, he wouldn't have been able to stop himself.

In the two days that had followed, the almost-kiss had played on his mind, but strangely the knowledge of how close he'd come to making a decision that would change them and their relationship forever, well, it wasn't as anywhere near as scary as it should have been.

In fact, if he was really honest with himself, the only negative emotion he felt now in respect of that moment was regret; he'd been interrupted before he'd had the chance to go through with it.

He'd spent so long hiding from his feelings for Kensi over the years that he'd known her, fearing them, certain that such feelings were a_ problem_, a hindrance that he needed to just bury and forget about, so he wasn't entirely sure why his opinion had changed so dramatically in such a short amount of time. Maybe it was because he'd come so close to losing her forever. Maybe it was because she was so far out of his league they were on different planets. Maybe he just got tired of living in a constant state of denial.

Maybe it was all of those things, or maybe it was something else entirely.

Whatever it was, he wasn't going to hide from it anymore.

He was in love with Kensi Marie Blye - completely and irreversibly besotted with her –and he was going to do something that two days ago he would never have dreamed of doing.

He was going to tell her how he felt about her. He was going to tell her how he felt and have faith that she would feel the same way about him.

Maybe she wouldn't return his feelings, and everything would be destroyed between them, and that thought was so _petrifying _it didn't even bare thinking about.

But, on the other hand, maybe she _did _feel the same way, and if she_ did_ then there was a chance that they could be _amazing_ together. It was a risk he was willing to take.

She must have been about 20 seconds down the footpath when she realised that he wasn't following her anymore and spun to face him, once again oblivious to his internal ponderings, and gave him a look that could have melted titanium. "Let's move, Deeks. I'd like to get home sometime before Christmas!"

Deeks sighed good-humouredly, swinging her duffle bag over his shoulder and jogging after her, adding the word 'insufferable' to his little Bad-Ass Blye checklist.

Of course, he wouldn't want her any other way.

"So, uh... I know you're eager to get back to that glorified laundry-pile that you call your lounge and all that girly reality crap on your TIVO box," he started as he fell into stride alongside her, nudging her arm with his elbow and winking at her with a whole hell of a lot more confidence than he was feeling at that moment, "but I was thinking that maybe we could go uh, grab something to eat first?"

She looked back at him, an enigmatic glint in her mismatched eyes as she took in the hopefully not too eager expression on his own face. "I don't know. Are you buying?"

"Don't I always?"

"Not Peanut Butter and Jelly I hope."

He laughed. "No, no P&J, I promise."

She grinned and nudged him back as they rounded the corner into the parking lot. "Then I'm in."

xxx

An hour later, and Deeks and Kensi were sharing Mezze on the veranda at one of Deeks' favourite family run Greek restaurants just off the 3rd St Boulevard. Kensi had originally wanted to head down to one of the food trucks on the beach for a chilli dog, but Deeks had vetoed that idea immediately. She'd acted like she was affronted, asking what was wrong with her suggestion and he'd managed to stammer out some feeble excuse about them celebrating her miraculous recovery and wanting to try something different for a change in response.

Really though, with the dreams he'd been having the last couple of nights he just couldn't bear the thought of being within earshot of the ocean while he ate.

He could tell by the sceptical look on his partner's face that she hadn't bought his justification for a second and that she knew exactly what was going on with him, but she was yet to push the issue of his sudden irrational dislike of the ocean, and for that he was beyond grateful. The last thing he needed was her steam-rolling him into talking about his neuroses while he was trying to eat his Keftèdes and Tzatziki.

Besides, he had other things on he needed to get off his chest today.

More important, slightly terrifying things.

He slowly became aware of the sound of the passing traffic on the street below, the lilting Bouzouki music from inside the main restaurant and of Kensi's conversational voice chattering away in between mouthfuls of food, and he realised he'd completely zoned out.

"…and then we took all our clothes off and rolled around in the mud together."

_Wait, what?!_

Okay, so _that _caught his attention, and Deeks looked up to Kensi sharply, fork halfway to his lips, completely stunned by those words as she popped another olive into her mouth, a smug expression on her face.

"You haven't been listening to a single word I've said this past five minutes, have you?"

He was so busted. "Um…"

Her features softened slightly. "Where were you just now?"

He laughed nervously. "What are you talking about, I'm right here,"

"I meant figuratively Deeks, and you know it."

She was staring at him expectantly, and all of a sudden he couldn't think of a single word to say in response. He just stared at her, frozen like a rabbit in the headlights while she sighed and wiped the olive oil off of her fingertips with a napkin.

"You know," she started, a small smile quirking at the corner of her mouth, "you've barely said a word since we got here. In the three years I've known you, the only time I ever saw you this quiet before was when you got shot. And that was only because you were unconscious at the time."

He let out a small huff of laughter at this, pushing the remnants of food around on his plate distractedly with his fork.

"So what gives Deeks?"

She was gazing at him with a warm expression on her face. He put his fork down and pushed his own plate away.

_Okay Marty, time to either ruin your life or make all your dreams come true. Here we go._

He drew in a deep breath, placed both palms face down on the table, looked right into her eyes, and, without any preamble, took a huge leap of faith. "I'm in love with you."

Time seemed to slow down as he watched the compassionate expression slide off Kensi's gorgeous visage, replaced instead with a completely indecipherable expression, her eyes no longer looking at him, but staring off somewhere into the middle distance. The sound of the restaurant and the traffic on the street seemed to fade into silence and the detective swallowed uncomfortably as he waited for her to say something, _anything_ in response.

When a few more seconds (or minutes, or hours, or however long it was) passed by and Kensi _still _hadn't said a word, Deeks started to seriously entertain the notion that he might have actually _broken _her. (Well, actually, he started to seriously entertain the notion that he might have just made the _biggest mistake of his life_, but he pushed that thought to the back of his mind for the time being. After all, there was no point in worrying about what he couldn't undo).

Another indeterminate measure of time passed by, throughout which a waiter actually came along and cleared the table, and Kensi _still _hadn't moved. Deeks decided that he couldn't take the silence for a moment longer. "Kens?" he prompted softly, mortified by the tremble in his voice when he spoke.

It was like she'd forgotten he was sitting there, and despite the tension of the moment he found it hard not to chuckle when her surprised mismatched eyes snapped back up to his own blue ones. He watched as she swallowed then licked her lips, trying to wipe the stunned expression of her face but failing miserably. "You're in love with me." She repeated his words back at him slowly, her eyebrows raised in disbelief.

He nodded, desperately trying to reign in the rising sense of trepidation within his heart as he placed his right hand over her left one on the table. The fact that she didn't immediately flinch away from his touch buoyed his fractured confidence a little.

"Since when?" she asked, a touch of incredulity slipping into her tone.

He couldn't believe she was so shocked by this. Hadn't it been totally obvious to her? "Um, I don't know. Like, forever?" he blustered nervously.

She blew out a shaky sigh of her own, looking for all intents and purposes like she'd just been kicked in the gut, and Deeks started to really panic. Had he totally misread her feelings towards him? He hadn't given any thought about what he would say to her after he told her he was in love with her. He hadn't let himself truly consider the consequences _at all_. He'd just pushed it all to the back of his mind since he'd made the insane decision to tell her his feelings, assuring himself that it would all be okay, that she'd understand, that she'd feel the same way and they'd waltz off, happily ever after into the sunset together.

_God, _he was such an _idiot_.

There were reasons, _good _reasons why he'd kept these feelings to himself for all those years, every one of those good reasons now flying through his mind at a thousand miles an hour. His heart seemed to turn to stone in his chest when he finally admitted to himself just how badly he'd managed to screw things up within such a tiny amount of time. What the_ hell_ was he thinking?

He was already speaking before he made any conscious decision to do so; desperate words spilling out of him like water from a broken dam.

"Look, I know that you don't like surprises, and that this is probably the biggest surprise you've had in years, so I'm sorry for that. We're partners, and I know that I'm not supposed to feel this way about you, but I just do Kens, and I can't just..." he realised he was starting to babble and cut himself off before he could really got going. He cleared his throat before trying to explain himself in a more coherent manner. "I've been in love with you for a _really_ long time, and I tried to convince myself that it was enough to have you in my life as a friend, as my partner. I tried to tell myself that it was just a little crush, a _thing,_" he couldn't help cocking a wry grin at her, "that I'd get over eventually. I've_ tried _to ignore it, you know? But it didn't work. It was like, the more I tried to ignore it, the harder it got to ignore."

_God, so much for not babbling Deeks, _he thought to himself despairingly. He reached out with his other hand and held hers in both of his, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles as her wide eyes filled with tears and he desperately tried to make her understand where he was coming from. "I almost lost you forever a couple of days ago and ever since then it's like I realised I couldn't do it anymore. Couldn't _lie _to myself anymore. Us being_ just_ friends,_ just_ partners, it's not enough. It will _never_ be enough for me." A tear slipped down her face and his heart fractured a little bit more. "God Kens, I'm sorry. I know that's selfish of me, and I don't expect you to feel the same way but…"

"No." Her teary voice cut through his rambling confession and he pulled up short.

"No?" He knew there was a possibility that she didn't feel for him what he felt for her, but hearing her confirm it hurt a hell of a lot more than he was prepared for. Suddenly he wanted nothing more than to run away. He tried to pull his hands away from hers but she reached out and captured them once again in her own.

"No Deeks, wait!" she started urgently. "That's not what I meant." She took a deep breath and tightened her grip on his fingers. "I meant, no, I don't _not _feel the same way about you."

Deeks felt his brow furrow as he tried to wrap his mind around that convoluted sentence, a small spark of hope igniting in his chest. "Okay, that was like, a triple negati…"

He never managed to complete his question, but he didn't have to. The sensation of soft hands on either side of his face as she stood and leaned over the table – the feel of her warm breath on his face and her lips pressed gently against his own was all the answer he needed.

His heart jumped up to his throat as he tilted his head back and returned the fragile, tentative kiss, his own hands raising up and wrapping around her tiny wrists, pulling her in closer to him over the (suddenly extremely annoying) table for two.

Eventually, Kensi smiled against his lips and the kiss came to an end (as all good things must). She pulled away from him and sat back in her seat, but their hands remained joined together over the table, Deeks smiling so wide he thought his face might split in two.

And then Kensi, ever the wordsmith, uttered out the one sentence he thought he'd never ever hear her say. "In case that wasn't clear enough Detective Deeks," she started, tone husky, face serious, "I love you too, you dumb-ass!"

He laughed heartily. Trust his Kensi to be incapable of expressing any kind of positive emotion toward him without insulting him in the process. "Really? With the name-calling?"

She smiled back, obviously choosing to ignore the second part of that question. "_Really _really."

He was seriously considering kissing her again when their waitress interrupted them, clearing her throat to capture the attention of the love-struck pair before her. Deeks dragged his eyes away from his partner reluctantly and looked up at the young Mediterranean woman expectantly.

"Can I offer you any desserts or coffees sir?"

He looked back over to Kensi's smiling face to see what she wanted to do and as she shook her head a sense of peace and contentment, the likes of which he'd never felt before, overwhelmed him. He was in love with Kensi Marie Blye, and for some crazy, incomprehensible reason, she was in love with him too.

"No thanks," he replied with a grin, never breaking Kensi's own happy gaze. "I've got everything I need right here."

It was the truth, and when Kensi smiled back at him happily, rubbing his thumbs with her own, it occured to him that one chapter of the story of his life had just ended, and a new, much more exciting chapter had begun.

And honestly, with Kensi Blye by his side? He couldn't wait to see how it turned out.

xxx

_Fin _

xxx

**A/N: **Sequel?


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